Silence
by Zuriyan
Summary: Someone's not happy with something terrible done long ago in freezing Russia. Now that the man is ready, the game is on. The game of Life. [Oneshot, Violent, semiAU, kinda pointless]
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: Hello you! This short piece of work is not really very important, but I thought that it would be good. It's AU, but don't kill me, the thought was killing me first. Anyway, this is about a character which is mildly violent and unstable. Someone did something bad to him as a kid, and now that he's old enough to legally own a firearm, he's out for a bit of revenge._

_**Warnings:** Violence, pointlessness, and character death._

_Theo's notes: Don't look at me, I haven't even edited this. I tried to stop Zuri making this little thing, but well.. there was the violent urges etc... so he Zuri had to do it._

_**Disclaimer:** I don't own Beyblades, and if I did I would be very happy! Hee hee, and there would be a new series, with plenty of smut involved... -romantic sigh-_

_And on we go._

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Silence

Not a single breath of a sound echoed against the frozen cliff face as the dark shape of a human walked up the narrow street, light footfalls quickly eaten by the freezing midnight air. A dark suitcase made a dull thump as it hit the figure's thigh with each ascending step. The person's breath left thick clouds of steam behind in the snow filled air as the black and white clad form approached the edge of the road. Soon, as the figure crossed the street, his path ended, the ground simply falling away at the edge of the road. The road itself lined a hillside, one side steeply dropping after a flimsy guard rail and a line of bushes and trees. The other side was a strong cliff face, so when driving, there were only two options if something went wrong… go over the edge, or smash into the limestone wall.

The figure pushed his case beneath the bushes, easily vaulting the steel barrier and slipping between and behind the shrubs himself. The face of a watch catches the thin moonlight, and the time is noted at 4 minutes past midnight. A sly chuckle bounced off the snow before it too was eaten by the cold silence.

"Plenty of time."

The camouflaged male quickly and quietly opens his case, revealing the dissembled form of a German rifle, complete with scope and several rounds of spare ammunition. There was an electronic organiser along with a small bag, which he took out first, standing and walking back to the road, he emptied the tinkling contents all over the road. The careful figure avoided the broken shards of glass, making sure they were sticking up at angles. It now looked as though someone had carelessly thrown a bottle out of their car window... perfection.

After assuring himself that it was obvious enough for the Crime scene investigators, he slipped back into the bushes, this time to assemble his weapon.

"Soon Carmen." He murmured under his breath, gently stroking the barrel of his beloved, licensed firearm. Resting flat against the ground, he crept closer to the edge of the road, taking with him the organiser. He went through the details of his target's itinerary carefully, according to his information, the car should be here… at 12 minutes past 12. Checking to make sure the angles were perfect, the male figure pocketed the device and looked at his watch once again.

8 minutes past. Highly sensitive ears picked up no sounds, except for his own soft breathing, and a gentle coo from a nesting bird in a tree close by. Minutes passed, and still the figure waited, his almost violet eyes almost unblinking as it stared at the road before him, where the target's car would be appearing in less than 4 minutes.

There was a car approaching, it's driver smiling sadistically to himself as his foot pressed hard against the accelerator. His car was going nearly double that of the actual speed recommendation for such a thin, winding, slippery road, but the driver did not care; he'd been down here for as long as he could remember. Even the snow did not bother him, he could drive this road with his eyes closed if he wanted to... every turn was hardwired into his slightly drunken mind. His finger reached for the air conditioning knob as his other hand turned the wheel sharply.

Nearly colourless eyes shone from behind a thick line of bushes lining the narrow cliff side road. His well trained ears had detected the speeding car, and his finger had instinctively curled around the trigger of his beloved Carmen. The weapon almost shivered with anticipation, but that was impossible… she was simply a tool.

"Wait for it…" he whispered, his voice almost inaudible against the snow. Directly on time, the car swerved around the corner, and the instantaneous bang was almost not noticed because of the volume of the car's stereo system. The second most certainly was not.

"Game..."

The Trigger had been pulled, and the car swerved too far, the both right hand tyres having been destroyed by the quick finger and ultimate accuracy of the figure in the bushes. The resulting squeal of tires and the huge crash was music to the male's ears and he laughed quietly to himself as the car swerved first towards the railings, and then directly into the unforgiving limestone wall.

"Target… annihilated. Set." The voice was cold, secretive and triumphant as he watched the inside of the car, looking for signs of life, his ears listening for anything that would reveal survival. After a moment, there were no sounds, and so, packing up his weapon, the figure vaulted the railing. His footsteps crunched against the crust of snow, as he walked forwards. His toneless eyes looked through the front window and saw only death.

"Match. Bye bye bastard."

A smirk crossed the pale features, and the male bent down to search first the front, and then the back right hand tires. His slender fingers removed the lethal bullets from the tires, and judging the scene clear, he walked away from the scene, the gently falling snow covering his tracks long before the authorities were notified.

And then, there was only silence.

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_Ok, here we go. Is that enough for you? If I get enough reviews, I could turn this oneshot into a more-shot. I'll only know how much you want it if you leave a comment saying as such! Heh heh, anyways, that's it for now, I promise I'm going back to Icy Longing now!_

_Reviews are very much appreciated, as well as the Constructive Critisism which Theo loves so very much. +Yeah man, help us out, the only way we're gonna get better is through other people's assessment.+_

_Ok. Hope you enjoyed!_


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N: Due to a positive response from each review I recieved, I decided to add a little chapter to this. I don't think that this will get much bigger, depending on the responses. If people ask nicely, I might be able to pull something up._

_**Warnings: **Implied murder._

_**Disclaimer:** I don't own Beyblades, and this plot is probably quite similar to someone elses._

_"This is the speech of the News Reporters"_

This is normal speech etc

_---  
_

_**Silence**_

_"...authorities report that the crash was due to a broken bottle on the slippery road. According to experts, Voltaire was driving over the speed limit in the snow when he rode over the glass, two of his tires were destroyed by the glass, and he lost control of his vehicle, therefore causing a head on collision with the limestone cliffs. Tara Molotov at the scene."_

Crimson eyes watched the news report with an enraptured grin. The young man viewed the screen with absolute concentration… his grandfather… dead? A bubble of laugher managed to escape his lips and the young man praised whatever gods had taken one of the two evil men from his life.

_"Tragedy here the only face in this crowd…"_

The sound of the front door opening killed thoughts of laughter and elation. The soft footfalls revealed their maker, and Kai felt his emotions drain to mirror his friend's. The lavender haired male slipped silently into the couch, beside the blue haired Russian.  
"Kai." His husky voice growled in greeting.  
"Bryan." The other replied, nodding to the other. "You hear about Voltaire?" he asked, searching the other's almost toneless eyes.

_"Voltaire was the President of the RBBA…"_

"I heard, it was all over the radio. That man was a crazy driver." There was no guilt in the man's features, for there was no guilt in the larger man's heart. Voltaire had been evil, had done things to Kai that had no right to be either forgiven, or forgotten.

_"…most of his fortune into the Russian team's training…"_

"Glass on the roads." Younger male noted, his arms lifting to rest behind his head.  
"Really?" There was a slight undertone of sarcasm, but it was near unnoticeable. "I can't say that anyone will miss him though." A slight hint of curiosity appeared in the scarlet eyes of the younger male. "Where'd you go last night? You weren't home when I came back." There was a twinge of suspicion in the slate haired young man, but he daren't mention it aloud… if he was wrong.

_"…shall be sorely missed by the entire Beyblading community…"_

"I went for a drive up to the Lookout." Bryan didn't elaborate on this fact, his eyes focussed on the television report. The other Russian understood though, sure now of his friend's actions.  
"To see Tala?" The question was quiet, the younger male's mind dawning on the full implications of his friend's actions.  
"Yes. I was home after 2 am."

_"… Expected that the accident occurred between half past 11 and 1 am last night…"_

There was a moment of silence, as each listened to the report. There was nothing suspicious about the accident apparently, Voltaire's family was yet to be found and informed of the tragedy.

"Just think, I was less than like, 100 metres away from that accident when it must have happened." The violet haired Russian said, his voice careful as he spoke the words. In reality, he had been less than 30, but Tala's new house was just up the hill from the exact spot where Voltaire was killed.

Moments passed, and the television was turned off. The pair stared blankly at the black screen, each with his own thoughts. Eventually it was Kai who broke the silence, turning to his friend with a strange smile on his face.  
"Thanks Bry. He was a bastard." He murmured, patting his housemate on the shoulder and standing up.  
"What do you mean?" The other answered, understanding in his cold, almost colourless eyes. "I didn't do anything that wasn't enjoyed."

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_There we go, that's it for now. I would love some responses, and I hope that answered all of your questions._


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